


It Takes a Thief, February 1974

by BobbyCrocker101



Category: Kojak (TV 1973)
Genre: 1970s, Assassination attempts, Assassins, Bankers, Button Men, Detectives, Extra-Marital Relationships, Fences, Gen, Government Bonds, Hitmen, Laser beams, Manhattan South, NYPD, New York City, Thefts, Wire Taps, homicides, jewel thieves, murders
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-20
Updated: 2020-12-20
Packaged: 2021-03-10 23:55:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,675
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28195800
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BobbyCrocker101/pseuds/BobbyCrocker101
Summary: Kojak’s thoughts concerning the events that occurred in the Season 1 episode 'Before the Devil Knows', with a few changes and bits addedThis is an original story set in February 1974Feedback welcome.





	It Takes a Thief, February 1974

**Author's Note:**

> None of the characters belong to me; I'm just playing with them for a while before putting them back in their box. No money is being, or will be made from this story.
> 
> Spoilers: Major spoilers for the Season 1 episode 'Before the Devil Knows'.
> 
> in the Season 2 episode 'Nursemaid' Crocker’s ID shows him to have been born in 1943 which would make him 31 in 1974, but because he's occasionally referred to as being very young and is often called "Kid" or "Junior", my version of him is younger at 23. 
> 
> Glossary: Gonif = In Yiddish a thief or dishonest person or scoundrel
> 
> Original characters: Detective Newman, Detective Rogers, Sammy, Mary
> 
> Enjoy!

“Where is everyone?” I asked Sergeant Al Vine who was busy working at his desk. It was just after 06:00 and apart from a handful of people typing and drinking coffee the squad room was suspiciously quiet.

“Rizzo’s off, Saperstein and Stavros are due in at eight and Crocker’s out on a call,” he replied. 

“Anything I should know?” I asked.

“Some guy fell sixteen floors while robbing an apartment,” he informed me. I decided I’d better get over there. It wasn’t that I didn’t trust Crocker, who was more than capable of handling calls on his own, but he HAD only been with the Detective’s Division five months and I’m a mother hen.

****

I got out of the elevator on sixteen and made my way to the apartment. A uniformed officer was standing outside in the hallway, and standing up straighter when he saw me approaching, informed me that my detective was inside.

As I entered the expensively furnished apartment I spotted the Forensics guys dusting everything that wasn’t moving and looked across the living room to where Crocker was involved in a heated discussion with Detective Artie Douglas from Safe & Loft over who should handle the incident; them or us. He had a bundle of what appeared to be red climbing rope in his hands. 

****

“Hey Douglas! Regardless of the interest Safe & Loft has in the case, this is not a natural death, and I don’t care how long you’ve been after David and Le Jeune; all evidence goes to Homicide; we both know that!” Crocker informed the other man, firmly but politely. I wandered over.

“Hello Artie,” I greeted, and then looked at Crocker, “David and Le Jeune?” I asked as I sat on the arm of one of the chairs.

“Two-forty this morning, after burglarising this apartment, John David falls sixteen floors from that balcony,” my detective informed me as he pointed to said balcony, “swinging from this.” He showed me the climbing rope. I got up and taking the rope from him walked over to the balcony doors. I noticed the ends had been cut. 

“John David gets killed working with Le Jeune; are you kiddin'?” I asked. I stepped out onto the balcony and peered over the edge. After ‘admiring' the view for a few seconds I walked back toward the lounge. “Hey, does Ginger Rogers fall off of Fred Astaire’s feet? Those two ‘twinkle-toes’ could climb up a Goodyear blimp in flight and get down without mussin' any hair!” I tossed the rope back to Crocker and put my hands in my pockets to keep out the cold. Douglas pressed the bridge of his nose with his fingers, a sure sign that he was as tired as the rest of us.

“We all have a certain amount of respect for these two, lieutenant; but they’re not infallible, or immortal,” he informed me, “but this isn’t homicide; it’s a simple accident. Somebody killed on the job, that’s all.”

“Artie, that rope didn’t break; it was cut.” I informed Douglas.

“He knows,” Crocker replied.

“Whatever happened was between the two of them,” Douglas continued. “Now WE’RE going to 'nail' Le Jeune for this job lieutenant. WE’LL get him OK?”

“Ah Mr Douglas,” I began as I walked back into the room. “Two years ago, before Le Jeune became your personal property I was after him right? Me, three of my men, we stake out. There’s a brownstone we know Le Jeune’s gonna to hit, and he’s not gonna do it under our noses, never. So what happens? He gets into a dumb waiter, five floors up, hand over hand and poop; he’s gone. I want him, but Safe & Loft they keep getting the case, but not THIS time Artie. THIS time: Homicide!” Douglas looked at me and Crocker, sighed, and then walked away. Crocker watched him leave and then turned his attention back to the rope. 

“Who are the tenants?” I asked quietly as I looked over my detective’s shoulder to where a couple of people were being questioned by another of the Safe & Loft detectives. He looked like he’d stepped right out of a crime novel with his up-turned raincoat collar and hat. Crocker turned and followed my gaze.

“That gentleman over there: Ramsey Brewer; vice president of the National Bank of New York. He was downstairs looking for the stolen jewellry when the first officers arrived,” he informed me. I looked at the man with his white hair, moustache, blue pyjamas and Paisley patterned robe. I figured him to be in his sixties. 

“Who’s the ‘broad’?” I asked as I spotted the young woman seated in front of Mr Brewer. She was very attractive: a brunette, with large dark brown eyes, and wearing an expensive negligee.

“His ‘old lady’,” Crocker replied. Lucky Mr Brewer I thought as I made my way across the room.

I dismissed the Safe & Loft detective and asked him to pass on any information he had to Crocker. I introduced myself.

“I don’t have any more to add,” Brewer began. “We woke up, saw the light on the extension phone – I guess they took it off the hook so it wouldn’t ring, and the next thing I knew I heard a scream and I rushed down and found my wife’s missing jewellry.” I nodded.

“The detective over there said we couldn’t have it back,” Mrs Brewer spoke haughtily as she glared at Crocker. “He gave me a receipt; I don’t look very good in receipts.” To me she would have looked good in anything.

“Well, I don’t know about that Mrs Brewer,” I smiled down at her, “you know, I know this fella Le Jeune. He’s great, and he doesn’t usually leave a place empty-handed. Is there anything else missing?” I asked.

“I’d say three thousand in cash; it was in the safe. That’s all,” Brewer replied.

“That’s all.” I repeated.

“They didn’t even blow it up; just opened it! How is that possible?” he asked. I excused myself and walked him away from his wife.

“Are you recently married Mr Brewer?” I asked quietly.

“Six months to be exact.”

“And I guess you went through that divorce I suppose with that ugly legal scene with the ex.” 

“Yes,” he replied.

“Well usually when someone’s been divorced they change the combination to their safe, you know, kind of a reflex thing. You Mr Brewer, you’ve been robbed by the best; he’s beautiful! Forget about the files and the stethoscope and the ‘hocus pocus’ movie thing. Oh no; someone SOLD him the combination to your safe.” He looked at me.

“Two men changed it,” he informed me, indignantly, “from a reputable security company; Lockmaster Vaults, they were bonded…”

“Oh yeah,” I replied, “With the patch on the shoulder and keep your fingers crossed, right? That’s bonded. Oh no, no; INSIDE information,” I pressed, “and that’s how eighty-five per-cent of the crimes and burglaries in this city… hey I’ll ‘lay you book’ that these guys have worked for five companies since they were last here. You wanna do me a favour Mr Brewer? 

“Sure.”

“Would you go check the date when your combination was changed?” He nodded and walked over to the dresser. I walked back over to where Crocker was busy making notes and beckoned him to join me over by the balcony.

“Ah look, if you were gonna kill me…” I began. He looked horrified.

“Why do you ask me…?” He interrupted, annoyed that I should even think of asking him something like that.

“Just wait till I finish.” I replied, cutting him off. “If you were gonna kill me, would you do it while we were driving in the car cruising together?”

“No,” Crocker replied without hesitation, for which I was most relieved. I turned and walked back to the balcony rail. 

“So why would Le Jeune wanna kill his own partner; when everything would point to HIM?” I turned to face Crocker, “For that matter why would he wanna ‘do him in’ at all?”

****

At the precinct the following morning, I’d just finished swapping notes with Crocker when Stavros escorted Mrs Brewer into my office. She was wearing a very expensive white fur coat and hat, white trousers, and was acting all coy with a handkerchief held to her mouth. Not the sort of attire to wear in a dirty squad room I thought, and certainly not the way to behave if you don’t wanna get noticed. I invited her to sit and then spotted Crocker and Stavros standing in the doorway staring at her. It was a bit rude, but then again she was very beautiful and I would certainly have done the same in their shoes.

“Good morning lieutenant,” she began before asking if we could have the door closed. I got up and closed the door, and then apologised for the men’s behaviour. I sat on the corner of my desk.

“If you’re still… worried about your jewellry…” I began.

“I’m worried about my husband,” she replied. “He didn’t tell the truth last night. There was… something else stolen from the safe.” 

“What was that Mrs Brewer?” I asked, not entirely surprised by her news.

“If there has been a crime committed, and I’ve known about it… how guilty am I? I mean… how much do I have to pay for it?” She asked. I looked away and sighed.

“Well, that would depend on your involvement and of course, the nature of the crime.” 

“That burglar last night, the one that got away… if you find him with what he stole, you’ll know what Ramsey’s been doing,” she began to cry, although I noticed there were no tears.

“Well why don’t you tell us about it Mrs Brewer?” I suggested. “It’ll make you feel much better.” She looked away and then back at me.

“Ramsey has… custody of a lot of government bonds in the bank,” she told me, “they… don’t mature for twenty or thirty years, but the interest is paid to a… union or a foundation or whoever owns them. But the bonds stay in the bank. Last year… he took out fifty thousand dollars-worth… before we were married… and then a hundred thousand dollars-worth… and yesterday he finally did what he said he was going to do. He stole a million dollars-worth.” I opened my mouth in amazement. “He… sells them to the underworld… then he was going to wait… six months… then take me to Florida… to retire.” She burst into tears. I stepped forward and put an arm round her, and then just as quickly I removed it, told her take it easy and began pacing round the room.

“A million dollars… Kevin Le Jeune… accidentally runs into the ‘big one’,” I said to no one in particular. I sat down at my desk. “Who knows: maybe he DID do David in,” I mused. After a moment I looked up and saw Mrs Brewer looking at me, still waiting for an answer to her initial question. “Well technically, I guess you could be considered an accomplice Mrs Brewer, but I don’t think anybody would want to prosecute you.” She continued to look at me.

“I’ve done a terrible thing coming here haven’t I?” I stood back up and walked round my desk and bent down to speak to her.

“Well Mrs Brewer, maybe you did something worse, maybe you started him into doing this. Did you ever think of that?” she replied that she had. “His whole world’s falling apart,” I continued, “and who knows, at this moment he may be crying on his ‘fence’s’ shoulder.” We looked at one another. “Look Mrs Brewer, it takes about a day to get a court order for a wiretap. You and your husband use the same phone; I mean the same number?”

“Yes, why?” she asked.

“Because the wife of a suspect can give us permission, and we can get the court order faster.” She reluctantly agreed. I got up, opened the door and we walked back into the squad room where I got Saperstein to take her fingerprints under the scrutiny of all the ‘wolves’ in the room. I noticed that despite her protestations she was loving every bit of the attention she was receiving.

****

The following morning, with the court order in place, I was in the basement of Brewer’s apartment building with Crocker and Rizzo. 

“How long’s it gonna take you to trace this thing?” I asked Rizzo who was fiddling with the equipment. 

“Oh, just a couple minutes lieutenant,” he replied full of confidence. At that moment a voice was heard. It was Ramsey Brewer. Crocker sat up straighter and adjusted his headphones.

“Yes?” we heard Brewer ask.

“The stuff you couldn’t deliver this morning; would you believe I know where it is,” a male voice answered.

“I don’t understand…” We heard Brewer reply. I lit a cigarillo while Crocker began making notes.

“The guy who ripped the bonds off from you; I deal with him from time to time. It’s a small world isn’t it?” the voice replied.

“Can we get them back?” Brewer asked. “Is there any way?”

“Look Ramsey, here’s how it is. He and I have made a deal. You can always go into the vaults at work and come up with more,” the voice replied.

“That was going to be the last time…” Brewer began to panic.

“As ‘they’ say; just one more time,” the voice taunted.

“Suppose ‘they’ catch him… suppose he just calls the police and tells them what he stole and from whom. They start investigating, checking the bank vaults. That’s the end of me; nothing else for me,” Brewer replied.

“Why would he do a thing like that?” the voice asked.

“I killed one!” Crocker looked up at me, “I would have killed them both if I’d had the chance. I’m fifty-five, I’ve got a second life coming to me, and I’m not going to jail!” Brewer replied angrily. “Get the bonds from this fellow, and then get rid of him!”

“You’ve gotta be kidding; that’s not my business,” the voice replied.

“Well you know some people who do that sort of thing; I’ll pay. Fifty thousand dollars; is that enough?” we heard Brewer ask.

“You ARE serious,” the voice replied.

“You want more bonds; you help me protect myself,” Brewer threatened.

“Alright. For fifty thousand I’ll get you the best in the business, and that’s a promise. I’ll call Baltimore. But look Ramsey, this has got to ‘come off’ by tomorrow. I’ll get back to you.” The call ended. Crocker switched the recorder off and removed his headphones. I looked at Rizzo.

“What does that do to our trace?” I asked.

“Forget it.” He replied, shaking his head. I turned to Crocker.

“Fifty thousand dollars and a call to Baltimore: the best hitman in the business Crocker, who’s that?” I asked sharply.

“Packman,” he replied straight away.

“Neil Packman…”

“They say he’s ‘nailed’ about a hundred people or so. You want us to bring in Brewer?” Crocker asked.

“Nope; I want you to follow Brewer. I want to know who the ‘fence’ is he was talking to, and then we follow HIM to Le Jeune and maybe then, Packman… Neil Packman… He’s a machine Crocker.” He looked at me, “you put the money in the slot and out comes the bodies; cops, racketeers, husbands, wives, kids; he’ll kill anything. And you know something? Nobody even knows what he looks like.” I stood up and walked across the room and put on my hat. “Sure I want Brewer, sure I want Le Jeune, but most of all I want Neil Packman!” I looked across the room at Crocker who was watching me and I could see he wanted Packman too, if for no other reason than to please me.

****

Back at the precinct I made my report to the captain who was pacing round his office wearing a hole in the floor.

“YOU want Packman, I want Packman! But we’ve also got to ‘nail’ Brewer, Le Jeune and the ‘fence’!” He walked toward the window, “Now the ‘sweet trick’ would be to make it a ‘grand slam’ and get them all!”

“Sure: a burglar, a ‘fence', a banker and a ‘hitman’. How’s that for a twentieth-century fairy tale?” I took a sip of my drink. Frank turned round and started pacing again.

“Well we’re not gonna ‘nail’ Brewer, Le Jeune and the ‘fence’ without those bonds, in our hands as evidence to take to the Grand Jury.” Frank came and stood in front of me. “Now we both know Le Jeune. Where ever he’s hiding those bonds, he’s hiding them good; we might NEVER find them!”

“Frank, of those four there’s one we may NOT take - Le Jeune.” Frank looked at me. “I wanna make a deal with him. He hands over the bonds, and he gives us a deposition for the Grand Jury that he stole them from Brewer.”

“If he doesn’t hand them over, you don’t have a case against him anyway!” Frank walked back toward the window. “So what are you offering him?”

“His life. You know Packman’s reputation; he’ll make his first move as soon as possible. If it doesn’t work out, he’ll stalk Le Jeune for as long as it takes, and when Packman ‘takes a hit’ on somebody… that person’s finished.”

“Just how are you going to do this big favour for Le Jeune?” Frank asked. “Get Packman to drop the ‘hit’?”

“No.” I got up, crossed the room and leant on the file cabinet, “I know I can’t do that Frank, but Le Jeune’s got guts and he’s clever. With him as the ‘hit’ we could work out a plan to ‘nail’ Packman, I know it.” Frank stopped pacing and stood by his desk

“You and Le Jeune?” he asked incredulous, “Is that the ‘WE’ you’re talking about?” I smiled.

“Yeah, I want to work with him: the two of us together, on the same side; now there’s a team that stands a CHANCE against Packman!”

“It’s crazy!”

“I kinda like it Frank.” I turned round to face my friend.

“You don’t even know where Le Jeune is!” At that moment the phone rang, Frank reached out his hand for the receiver.

“Captain McNeil. Yeah, he’s right here...” He held the phone out to me. “…Crocker.” I took the receiver from him. I’d left my detective down town watching Brewer.

“Yeah?”

“Lieutenant, Brewer left his apartment about ten minutes ago and stopped at Columbus Circle,” Crocker began, “he’s currently talking to some guy in a new Continental, licence plate 374YAP. He’s blond, and from here he looks about thirty-five. Brewer just gave him an envelope!”

“OK I’ll have Stavros check out the car and the plates. You stay with him.” I put the phone down and looked at Frank. “Well, Brewer just gave an envelope to a guy in Columbus Circle. According to Crocker he’s too young to be Packman, so he’s probably the ‘fence’. You know something Frank; we’re getting warm.” I walked out of the room.

****

An hour later Saperstein and I met up with Crocker. After his meeting with Ramsey Brewer he had followed the ‘fence’ to the Woodman Hotel on Broadway. Seeing us arrive, he got out of his car and came over to us.

“Ah let’s get rid of the small talk and what have you got?” Crocker asked, leaning on a lamp post and unfolding the newspaper he’d brought with him.

“What have I got?” I asked. Crocker took a quick glance across the road, and then he turned back to me.

“Lieutenant, this is the guy here,” Crocker cut me off as a fair-haired man came out of the hotel and walked over to a parked car.

“Oh, that’s John Hagen; we know about him,” I replied, “how about Le Jeune?” I asked as Hagen got into his car and began to drive away.

“No sign.” Crocker replied.

“Alright, you stay with Hagen. If he stops and talks to anyone who might be Packman you follow him; I don’t expect they’ll meet, but you’ve got to stay on top of everything. Go ahead,” I told him. He got back into his car and drove off after the ‘fence’. Saperstein and I remained by my car,

“Lieutenant, here comes Le Jeune,” Saperstein informed me as a slim dark-haired man left the hotel and started to walk down the street.

“Alright, you go up to the apartment and search it up,” I ordered, “and I’ll stay with HIM.”

“Right!” Saperstein replied and began walking across the road to the hotel.

Keeping a safe distance I followed Le Jeune to Kirk’s Pool Hall; an old haunt of mine. I found him setting up a solo game. A prostitute called Mary was sitting on a stool watching admiringly and hoping. I told her to make like she didn’t know me. Sighing she got up and walked away.

“Alright, just another pretty face Kevin,” I told Le Jeune as I put a cigarillo in my mouth.

“Oh, hi Kojak! I didn’t know you hung around here,” He replied.

“I’m a graduate student,” I told him. “I sent my kid sister through college playing Nine Ball.”

“Hey you don’t say! How about a little wager? How about a hundred ‘bucks? Nah, that’s a little steep; how about fifty?”

“You’re on.” I lit my cigarillo and took a drag.

“Alright, call it!” he flipped a coin.

“Heads” I called as I puffed out some smoke.

“You lose.”

“You’re not trying to hustle me are ya?”

“No way!” He replied. I walked across the room, hung up my coat, and then made a big thing about chalking up my hands. Sammy, the manager, brought my pool cue over and made a side bet with me. I told Le Jeune to ‘rack ‘em up’ then I walked back to the table and stood close to my opponent.

“Alright, Brewer ‘cuts David down’ and you get away with all those gold-covered government certificates…” I suggested.

“Yeah?” Le Jeune teased.

“Yeah, and not only that, Hagen is Brewer’s fence, and he’s protecting him because he’s the ‘golden goose’ laying those ‘golden eggs’, and he also told Brewer that you robbed him.” I informed Le Jeune.

“Kojak, what are you talking about?” My opponent asked. I smiled at him and began chalking my cue.

“I know what I’m talking about, but you know something; Brewer’s afraid that you might ‘blow the whistle’ on his dirty hands after you sell the bonds because of David…”

“Still with the bonds huh?” Le Jeune replied. I took another drag on my cigarillo, while he placed the cue ball on table. He was about to make his opening shot when Saperstein arrived.

“Lieutenant? I just searched his room; couldn’t find a thing. Maybe he’s got them on him.” 

“Thanks a lot!” Le Jeune replied indignantly. He turned and walked over to the table where he’d laid his coat. “No, I don’t have anything on me, just these.” He returned with a large leather wallet which contained several sheets of newspaper. “Maybe other people have the wrong idea too; maybe other people think I’m carrying something valuable. See this way if they make a move against me they come up with nothing, and I know who I can trust, and who I can’t.” He put the sheets of paper back in the wallet and returned it to his coat.

I told Saperstein to take a walk because we didn’t want to tip off the hitman. Le Jeune laughed as Saperstein walked away and returned to the table to resume our game.

“Come on Kojak, let’s not waste our time; you don’t have a case against me, no case at all!” he began.

“It’s your shot,” I told him as I toyed with my cue.

“You got that right.” He went to make his shot, but at the last moment I pulled his arm. “Yeah: what?” He asked, annoyed. I put my hand on his shoulder and broke the news to him.

“Brewer’s got a hit out on you: fifty thousand dollars, cash; from THE man in Baltimore – Packman.” Le Jeune looked worried for a few seconds, sighed, cleared his throat and then began playing. I took another drag while he took his shot. 

“Nice shot!” I complimented as his target ball fell into a pocket. “Ah maybe you never heard of Packman…” I remarked.

“Oh yeah; I’ve heard of Packman, but what does it have to do with pool right?” we continued with our game. Le Jeune missed his next shot, “tough break.” I remarked.

“Listen, tell me something; when?” he asked.

“When,” I repeated. “Well for all I know he could be setting you up right now,” I chalked my cue and took a drag on my cigarillo.

“Kojak why are you giving me all this?” Le Jeune asked. “Why don’t you pick me up now?”

“Because I want those bonds as evidence against Brewer, because ten thousand times more than I want YOU I want Packman,” I made my shot and pocketed the ball he’d missed, “and this guy with his indiscriminate killing, you know for years, you’re gonna help me get him once and for all and you know what? I’m gonna save your life, and then you’re gonna give me the bonds and then it’s gonna be ‘happily ever after’ you know; ‘once upon a time’; like in the fairy tales - unless of course you don’t like living.” Le Jeune laughed heartily.

“You’re trying to get me to squirm,” he smiled, “get some sort of confession out of me huh?”

“Nine ball for the money,” I called out and then pocketed the ball. Crocker would have been proud of me I thought. The kid was lousy at cards, but he was the current NYPD pool champion.

“You know what I think?” Le Jeune asked, “I think you’re giving me all this Packman baloney just so you can ‘nab’ me when I sell those bonds to Hagen.” At that moment my attention was drawn to a man who appeared to be observing us from the counter across the room; fifties, raincoat, making like he was buying a pool cue, “Of course if there really are… bonds, you know what else I think?” He got a fifty dollar bill from his pocket, “this Packman, I don’t think he ever heard of me.” I continued to look at the man at the counter. Le Jeune also turned and looked. 

“What are you looking at?” he asked as he handed me the ‘fifty’. I took the money and walking over to where I’d left them, picked up my hat and coat. Le Jeune followed me to the counter where I gave Sammy his ‘twenty’.

“Guy that was just in here,” I asked, “did he buy a cue for himself?”

“Yeah, twenty-two ounces; I thought it was a little too heavy for him but…” Sammy replied.

“How about that case, the one that was under there?” I pointed under the counter.

“A real beauty Theo; they don’t make ‘em like that anymore,” Sammy replied. I turned and headed up the stairs to the street. 

Once outside I looked around. There was no sign of the man who’d been watching us. I took a few steps toward the street, and stopped next to a lamp post and put a fresh cigarillo in my mouth.

“Alright Kojak, what’s up?” Le Jeune asked as he came up behind me.

“That was him casing the joint; I know it.” I lit the cigarillo.

“How?” he asked

“Are you kidding?” I replied as I tossed the match away. “You ever see a REAL pool player buy himself a genuine leather carrying case and then wrap it up in old newspaper? Come on!”

“Packman… about that age isn’t he?” I took the cigarillo out of my mouth.

“A7073 to A7097: those are the numbers on the government bonds; we got them from the bank this morning. Hey look, they’re going all over the world; they’re gonna be tough to sell. Come on Le Jeune, give us a break!”

“You want me to play target for Packman?” He asked, incredulous.

“Hey, are you kidding? You got yourself a new partner; we're gonna do alright. Listen to me.” I informed him.

“Yeah WE’D better!” He replied. 

****

The two of us returned to the Woodman Hotel where we were joined by Crocker and Saperstein. I explained my plan to them and discovered that Crocker had come up with an idea of his own: something to do with sheets of plastic, glass and a laser, just in case Packman made his attempt after dark. 

For a while the room was a hive of activity. Crocker and Saperstein were in the bedroom putting together a wooden frame. A pair of matching frames had already been constructed and had been put in front of the sitting room window. Each had a sheet of plastic attached. Leaning against the wall was a pane of toughened glass. Le Jeune was stood in the doorway between the two rooms studying a map of Manhattan while I was on the phone to Frank keeping him up to date.

“He says the bonds are in the pool hall someplace; he’ll go and get them just before Hagen shows up…no… no; Packman’s not gonna take a shot at him before Hagen gets his hands on those bonds,” I lit the cigarillo that was hanging out of my mouth.

“So he’ll try and make the hit either in the hotel room or on the way to the airport,” Frank suggested.

“Right!” I blew the match out and accidently breathed in the smoke which made me gag. Angrily I tossed the match away. “We’ll follow the cab to the airport; we’ll have a detective driving it. We’ll have another man dressed as a porter at the airport to carry his bags to the plane. We’ll even have a man on the plane, and I’ll be watching him all the time…”

“And if Packman never makes his move, we’re giving Le Jeune a pretty sweet send off for a crook!” Frank retorted.

“Hey; he doesn’t have to do ANY of this!” I pointed out. “We’re not giving him a paid vacation. I’ll get the money from Le Jeune before he leaves here, you’ll get the bonds when you follow Hagen and pick him up.”

“Theo; Le Jeune is the slipperiest ‘gonif’ I know of! He went along with this too quick! I don’t trust him!” Frank replied.

“Frank; trust ME, don’t worry. We’ve come up with a pretty good gimmick. I think we may have a shot at Packman Frank, I really do.”

“I’ll be checking with you later!” Frank replied. I ended the call. Crocker and Saperstein finished their construction job and I told Le Jeune to go into the sitting room and pull down the shade. My detectives brought the frame through and positioned it about three feet in front of the others. 

“Are you sure this is going to work?” Le Jeune asked. Crocker spoke to him reassuringly,

“Any bullet that comes through the window will go through the two thin plastic sheets; that’s the secret; two holes,” He and Saperstein then brought the pane of glass across the room, and inserted it into the wooden frame they'd just finished constructing and positioned it about three feet in front of the two frames with the plastic sheets. “Then what we do is line up the shot automatically through the two holes. This way we can get our men to the location as soon as we can, within seconds; not minutes, seconds; not bad huh?” This was something I’d seen done with string on many occasions, but string was no use at night, hence Crocker’s idea of using a laser, and he knew someone who had one. Le Jeune wandered across the room and helped my detectives to position the overhead supports. 

“Are you sure this is going stop a rifle shot?” he asked looking at the glass, not entirely convinced. 

“This is the highest impact glass that there is. It’s used in schools,” Crocker replied.

“Terrific!”

“It’s vandal proof,” Crocker told him, and then he picked up a hammer and hit the glass as hard as he could. The hammer left no mark. But I could see Le Jeune was still not a hundred per-cent reassured.

“Yeah, look; we gotta give it a shot right?” I told him. Crocker got on the radio.

“You guys hear me out there on the roof?” he asked Armus and Rogers who were on top of the hotel armed with shotguns.

“We got ya!” Armus replied. “If the shot comes from any of the windows opposite just give us the building number starting from the left, then the floor down from the top, then the window. If he runs across the rooftops, we’ll get him.”

Crocker spoke into the radio again. Tracy and Newman were positioned in a car out front. Another couple of squad cars were parked round the corner.

“Patrol units; you hear that too? We’ll let you know in five seconds where the shot comes from; we’ll give you the address.”

“You give it to us that fast and we’ll get him,” Tracy replied.

“Right, stay loose!” Crocker replied. I told Le Jeune to pull up the shade and then went back into the bedroom and sat down next to the phone. Crocker was sitting next to the window unpacking some paper and pencils. He also checked his gun and his binoculars. Le Jeune laid himself down on a cot in the sitting room; now all we had to do was wait.

****

“Hey Kevin!” I called out, “Remember the Fitzpatrick necklace?”

“Sure; you never did find it. You must have thought we ate it or something!” Le Jeune replied laughing to himself.

I unwrapped a lollypop and shoved it into my mouth.

“So what did you get for it?” I asked.

“Strictly between us?”

“What you might call unprofessional curiosity,” I replied.

“Seventy-five thousand,” I was impressed.

“Where the hell did you hide it? I mean; how did you get it out of there; nobody left the chapel who didn’t get searched.”

“David’s kid brother was one of the altar boys!” He replied.

I took the lollypop out of my mouth.

“We searched the altar boys!”

“What about the cup of communion wine when he took it back to the sacristy? Did you search inside the cup; in the wine?” Le Jeune asked.

“You got away with it.” I remarked.

“You still didn’t find it pal. Now you tell ME something; how did you get on top of THIS case so fast? Sure you knew it was me when you found David dead. But how did you get to Hagen? How did you find out about the hit?”

“Brewer’s wife; ‘little Vicky’, I informed him.

“Oh HER. How?” he asked.

“She ‘busted’ her ‘old man’. She came to me the next morning; first thing. She knew what he was stealing from the bank and she wanted to get in the clear in case we picked you up and found out about the stolen bonds.” Crocker got up and walked over.

“Lieutenant; it’s four o’clock; Hagen’s due at half-past.” He reminded me. I called out to Le Jeune

“So shall we go over to the pool hall and get those bonds?” I suggested.

“Oh yeah,” Le Jeune got up and straightened his clothes.

“Come on, I’ll follow you.” I instructed.

Le Jeune put on his coat and went out of the door. I grabbed my hat and coat and handed my lollypop to Crocker and told him to ‘put it out’ someplace. He looked at me with an expression of both disbelief and disgust. I smiled and followed Le Jeune out the door. Once outside I followed him at a safe distance as he walked along the street. Suddenly without warning he bolted, and after I’d disentangled myself from the garbage can he’d upset I realised I’d lost him. I ran to the pool hall, but no one there had seen him. Angrily I walked back to the hotel.

****

Back in the room I was on the phone updating the captain. Crocker was still working on his sketch of the building opposite. It was getting dark outside, so I switched the table lamp on.

“Hagen came at 16:30 Frank… no, I didn’t pick him up; I put a sign on the door ‘back in two hours’, and I put Le Jeune’s name on it!”

“Theo, even if we DO pick up Le Jeune at the airport, he’s obviously not interested in playing target anymore.” Frank replied.

“Yeah, I’ll twist his arm Frank. I’ll put a gun to his head if I have to.” At that moment there was a noise and Le Jeune walked into the room.

“Kojak, you won’t have to bother.” He informed me.

“He just walked in; later Frank.” I ended the call. Le Jeune was standing in the bedroom doorway. I picked up my drink and walked over to him.

“Would you like to start explaining yourself?”

“It’s getting’ dark out there; don’t you think we ought to worry about that first?”

“Yeah, and how are we gonna spot a sniper out there now, and in the dark? Hey, come on Kevin; we’re the greatest team since Ginger Rogers and Fred Astaire. Alright, let’s get the answer.”

****

It was pitch black outside. Crocker had finished his drawing of the buildings opposite then he’d made a quick phone call, and then he’d gone out, presumably to meet his friend with the laser. Saperstein remained in the bedroom, Le Jeune was in the sitting room writing his deposition. I was standing in the bedroom doorway watching.

“So you didn’t buy the combination to the safe; ‘little Vicky’ came up with it," I remarked. 

“Yeah; a real ‘women’s libber’ isn’t she?” he replied. 

“So why come back here?” I asked.

“Are you kidding? You shoot a man on the Force, I know you gotta take off at least a month; you get rattled, maybe your judgement’s off, right? Well you think about what I’ve been through these past twenty-four hours; I wouldn’t trust myself on a job for months, lots of months. Alright Kojak you win.” He finished writing, “here’s your deposition. How I burglarised the bonds from Ramsey’s safe… I got Vicky’s name in here too,” he added happily, “you got the whole story partner.” He handed me the deposition. I glanced at it. “Kojak; I’m getting older,” he smiled gently to himself, “there were jobs I used to take where I knew if worse came to worst I could outrun anybody; sometimes it’s that simple. Not anymore. Not without David either; I’ve got to think things over and without Packman breathing down my neck. Besides how can I pass a bunch of bonds now that you got their numbers with the bank, right?”

“Right; now you tell me where they are, and I’ll send somebody down to the pool hall to get them.”

Le Jeune sighed and put his hand into his back pocket.

“Save yourself the trip; I got them right in there.” He handed me a large wallet. I took it from him, opened it, and checked the contents.

“So what’s the angle?” I asked.

“Hagen’s the only one I thought might try to rip me off. I showed him the newspaper pages; he didn’t know what to make of it. But he sure didn’t think I was carrying those bonds around in there. No way I wasn’t gonna keep them on me I’ll tell you.”

The door opened, and Crocker walked into the room. Behind him was a man carrying what looked like surveyor’s equipment; tripod, large case. Crocker helped him carry the stuff into the bedroom and introduced him to me as Al Green, a civil engineering contractor from 55th Street. They took off their coats and began setting up the equipment.

“Bobby what’s going on?” Green asked.

“Well, it’s just possible that at any moment a man’s gonna to fire a high-powered rifle through the window of the room next door. Now what WE need to do is to pinpoint the exact position of that shot by putting a laser beam through the bullet holes and throwing it onto the buildings across the way.”

Green walked over to the window and peered out.

“That’s several hundred feet!” he exclaimed.

“It can’t be done.” I remarked.

“Are you kiddin’? It’s a piece of cake!” Green replied.

“OK so what do we look for?” I asked.

“A bright red circle, about the size of a ping-pong ball,” he replied.

“And we follow the bright red ball to the sniper.” Crocker added. I told him to get back on the radio to alert our guys on the roof and out on the street. He picked the radio up off the bed,

“Hey you guys in the cars and on the roof, we’re getting ready.” Green was unpacking the stuff from the case. “Are you guys set?” they all reported that they were.

I looked at Le Jeune who was sat calmly reading a small book that looked like poetry.

“Hagen’s got to be on his way.” I remarked.

“Kojak, I was thinking, suppose he uses a hollow-nosed bullet?”

“Not if he’s gonna try and hit you through the window, it would hit the window glass and explode. No it’ll be ‘jacketed’ and probably from a surplus M1. He’s done it before, about a hundred, two hundred times. Then he’ll just drop the gun and take off like a jack rabbit.

“Means that gives us maybe ten or fifteen seconds?” I asked him to go into the corner so I could get into the room. He put his book in his pocket and getting up wandered across the room to examine the toughened glass. I walked into the room and leant against the wall out of sight.

“Hey you know something?” he tapped the glass with his finger, “this is NOT very thick!” He laughed to himself. “You know we used to tell each other; David and me? ‘If you go to hell buddy, I hope you get there one hour before the devil knows.” I nodded, he smacked the glass. “I hope it works that way.” 

“Tell me about it,” I agreed and pulled my gun from my pocket and checked it.

**** 

“You ready?” Crocker asked Green. He’d got the drawing and the binoculars on a small table in front of the window.

“All plugged in, 30-foot extension, ready to go.” Green replied. Crocker looked out into the dark.

“We got a thousand blind eyes out there for windows, and one shot to ‘make’ the right one. Good luck.” I told everyone.

There was a knock at the door. I pointed my gun towards the door and nodded to Le Jeune who got up to open it.

“Who is it?” he called out.

“Hagen,” a voice replied. Le Jeune unlocked the door and opened it, making sure he was standing slightly behind it. Hagen walked in carrying a large brown leather case. The two men looked at one another,

“Don’t move Hagen,” I called out. “Don’t even look at me, smile.” He smiled at Le Jeune, who patted him heartily on both arms. He put his arm on Hagen’s shoulder and led him across the room. I continued to point my gun at Hagen while I searched him and relieved him of his ‘hardware’. He handed Le Jeune the case, he put it on a table near the window and opened it.

“Now, what are you supposed to do Hagen? Tell me or it’s gonna go harder on you. Where’s the hit?” Hagen nervously licked his lips

“Here; I’m supposed to draw him to the window.”

“Oh. Then do it… and do it exactly the way you planned it OK.” I instructed.

“Yeah but he…"

“Yeah… do it!” I ordered.

He asked Le Jeune to give him the bonds. He handed them over.

“Smile,” I told him again. He smiled and then walked across to the window to stand under the light as if checking the bonds. He held one up to the light and then beckoned Le Jeune over.

“See you around Kojak,” Le Jeune joined Hagen by the window. “I was right about you; wasn’t I?” he asked the blond man.

“Take a look at that,” he instructed. Le Jeune took the bond from him and Hagen walked away from the window.

“Should I smile too Kojak?” Le Jeune asked, standing with his back to the window. At that moment a shot rang out, the window glass smashed and Le Jeune fell to the floor. Quickly Saperstein cuffed Hagen. Crocker and Green moved the surveying equipment into position and lined the laser beam up with the holes in the plastic sheets.

“Third building from the right; number 152, section 2; top floor, extreme left window. Get on it!” Crocker yelled into the radio.

****

Out on the street a man in his fifties was seen walking down the stoop of number 152 carrying a paper grocery bag. Tracy and Newman called out to him, he fired at them, and they fired back and eventually got him. By the time the rest of us reached the scene, Packman was lying on the ground dead. I looked down at him, then back at Le Jeune.

“Kojak, I was thinking; do I just disappear in the confusion?” he asked. I lit a cigarillo, took a puff and then handed it to him. He took it from me, I turned away and he walked off down the street. I told him to stay clean… 

Neil Packman was dead, but there would always be someone waiting in the wings to take his place. But for now, for tonight, I could relax a little.


End file.
